We're getting to that point of the winter that feels very much like where we are with the pandemic. Everyone is just a little out of their minds, I think; it's typical of the time of year. The name "February" comes from the Latin for "fever," but that didn't mean body temperature. It meant a fever of the mind and emotions, a restless, urgent, frustrated need to be moving and doing, at a time when Nature still had us locked into snow and ice. What they used to call "cabin fever" was no joke before the days of plowed roads and snow tires. It was a kind of madness. People would do things they came to regret.

I'm trying to stay away from Facebook because it seems like I'll get myself into trouble the second I react to a post and make a comment. But I can't stay away from Facebook because I'm lonely and want to chat with my friends. I want the clouds to go away and the sun to come out. I'm wearing too many clothes and it takes too long to get dressed in the morning, and I'm still cold. The tips of my fingers keep splitting open, and I have to type with Bandaids on them (so please excuse any typos in the Courier, I do the best I can to spot them!).

A year ago, we were just coming out of this uncomfortable time of year when Governor Baker locked down the state. I'd been making lots of plans--as one does, during feverish February. They were all put on hold. The conventions and events I was looking forward to were all cancelled. Since then, it's felt like we've been living through ten Februaries in a row, one after another, with no idea when spring would come.

My conventions have gone virtual and now I'm attending them on Zoom. COVID-19 is receding, slowly, resisting every step back but losing ground with each day. I won't be eligible for the vaccine for a while, but I'm starting to hope that the end of the pandemic is in sight. I'm ready for spring.

When the snow melts after a long winter, it reveals many things that have been lost. Winchendon has changed a lot in the past year. We've lost our Town Manager, the Director of the DPW, and we're losing our Superintendant of Schools. New people will bring new ideas and energy, but they also break continuity with the past. They won't remember things that were discussed and voted on three or five or ten years ago. They won't automatically know what's most important to the residents of the town. We'll have to make sure they know, and not have unrealistic expectations of them.

What has the loss of almost a year and half of regular school days done to our children? We won't know until they're back in regular classes. They've lost art, music, theater, clubs, and many other things that they may never get back. Staff have been laid off, or have left, and may not be replaced. Only the students who play sports can rely on the full support of the administration. Those students who don't play sports are out of luck. Perhaps they'll leave the Winchendon school system and go someplace else.

It's going to take a long time for "the new normal" to feel more normal than just new (and strange, and uncomfortable). But eventually we'll get there.

In the meantime, no groundhog in Winchendon saw its shadow on Tuesday, and the Spring Equinox is only six weeks away. Let's keep our snow shovels at the ready, and remember where we put away our garden tools. We'll need them before we know it. Have you ordered your seeds and chicks yet?

Inanna Arthen